It was very early in morning, the Hubby had already left for work, and the sun was just stretching out it's rays across the hills.I heard a loud noise in the basement. My heart began to race and then I calmed down once I realized it was probably just Mo or Jo down there trying to find something to take my mind off the demise of Mr. Crochet.
I still haven't been able to leave the house. I don't even bother to get dressed anymore either, I just walk around the house all day in my bunny slippers and faded housecoat that has seen better days...like way back in the 1980's!
Mo tried everything he knew to make me smile, Jo, too. Although Jo's shenanigans are usually R rated and don't make me smile but shake my head instead.
I was feeling about as low as one person could get. The idea that Mr. Crochet and I would never again spend those blissful nights hanging out together, working on a project....we'd been through so much together, and to loose him seemed...well....impossible. I was having a really hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that Mr. Crochet was gone.
I must admit when I looked at him, so quickly, on that table at the morgue....I just could not believe my eyes. I glanced at him and then quickly looked away. The horror, the very idea, the loss...it is all still to great of a loss too talk about.
I called out to Mo and Jo, no answer. So I put my cup of tea down and headed to the basement. I was at the top of the staircase and then I slowly walked down. I could hear voices as I slowly opened the door to the basement and when I did, I soon realized the voices were not from the basement but from upstairs. Mo and Jo were just walking through the front door, I looked at Mo and the horror in his eyes should have told me something was wrong, for the next thing I knew someone had thrown something over my head and was pulling me into the basement. I started to kick and scream and then I felt something hit my head and everything went black.